


The Rumbelle Drabble Collection

by griseldalafey



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Little bit of angst, Rumbelle - Freeform, woobieness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4001929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griseldalafey/pseuds/griseldalafey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I started posting random Rumbelle drabbles on Tumblr a while ago. This is the place where I store them all. Most of them are fluffy, there's a ton of UST and massive amounts of woobiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Accusation

**Author's Note:**

> Words: 100

“You’re a thief,” she informed him as she sat down in his lap, mindful of his ruined ankle and ran her hands through his shaggy hair. 

The corner of his mouth turned up in a soft smile as his arms came up around her, pulling her even closer.   
“How so?” he asked bemused.

Her stern expression gave way to a smile as she leaned down and brushed her lips tenderly over his. “Because you stole my heart.” 

“I strongly disagree, sweetheart.” One of his hands came up to lovingly caress the side of her face. “Since fair exchange isn’t thievery.”


	2. Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little holiday cheer in the middle of March.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 200

He was going to _kill_ Granny with his bare hands.

Gold was certain of this fact as he helplessly tried to focus his attention on something, anything but the siren of a librarian sitting at the bar.

“What do you think, honey?” Granny asked, anticipation written all over her face.

Belle made a noise that caused all the blood in his body to relocate to his groin and he could feel cold sweat breaking out over his brow.

“It’s delicious, Granny,” she all but purred as she took another sip of the homemade hot chocolate Granny planned on serving during the holiday season.

With his brain was no longer functioning he couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to her face and fixating on the bit of whipped cream that lingered just above her lip.

He was going to triple the old bat’s rent and _then_ kill her.

As Belle darted out the tip of her tongue to swipe the cream a way - a lovely pink tongue that he could suddenly envision on various parts of his own body - he gripped the handle of his cane so tightly he was in danger of pulverizing the thing.

Granny was a _dead_ woman.


	3. The Polaroid Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of my sister getting engaged earlier this weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 300

Relieved to be finally off her feet, Belle sank down on the barstool, grinning at Granny’s expectant face.

“Had fun dress-shopping, girls?”

“Oh yeah!” Ruby enthusiastically started rummaging through her purse. “Ariel’s going to look like a vision on her wedding.”

 She handed the red-haired woman a snapshot and Ariel leaned in towards Granny. “Take a look, but you have to promise not to breathe a word to Eric!”

As Granny and Ariel crooned over the picture, Ruby pulled a second polaroid from her purse and pushed it towards Belle. “Here, for your scrapbook…”

Because she’d used slightly too much force, the picture slid to the other end of the bar and stopped right in front of the pawnbroker who was just collecting his coffee-to-go.

Belle dived after it, knowing that even if he didn’t mean to pry, Gold would immediately see what was on the picture.

Herself dressed in a wedding dress because at the time it had seemed like _such_ a good idea to try one on herself and let Ruby take a picture of it.

Now she just wanted to die.

He picked up the photo and stared at it, his face slowly turning crimson.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Gold,” she managed lamely, blushing scarlet herself when he lifted his eyes from the picture and stared at her, his eyes dark and burning.

“Good day, Miss French,” he replied politely, handing the photo back to her, the hoarseness of his voice indicating that he was coming down with a rather bad cold.

Belle turned around, feeling his eyes burn in her back and wishing she could just go up in smoke.

Ruby gave her a wide grin.  “I think I’m going to show mine to Archie. See if I can get a similar reaction.”


	4. The Polaroid Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 200

Apparently he was being punished for every bad thing he’d ever done in his life. 

And apparently the gods above had become quite creative in their manner of sanctioning. 

Because almost literally shoving a picture under his nose of beautiful, perfect Belle French in a wedding dress was a whole special brand of torture. 

A curve-hugging, fairy-tale like, dream of a wedding dress that was going to feature in his fantasies for months and months to come.  Fantasies in which he got to hold her in that dress, feeling the warmth of her body through the endless silk and tule and he never had to let go.  Fantasies in which she pledged herself to him, her eyes beaming with love and adoration for him.   
In which he got to take the dress off her and make love to her that night and every night that followed until the end of their lives.

Like a glass of water kept just out of reach to a man who was dying of thirst, the photo taunted him for the rest of the day and during the sleep-deprived night that followed.

Not even a monster like him deserved such a chastening.


	5. The Polaroid Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technically, not a drabble, but a response to a prompt:   
> Does Ruby know Gold has a thing for Belle?

“Don’t. get. me. started. on those two. It’s been going on for three years now I think? Before that Gold _never_ came in for breakfast.    
Then Belle started working for the library and about four months later he comes in for an espresso-to-go.  A few weeks after that he sits down and has a full breakfast.

He always sits at the same booth and god forbid if anyone else dares to sit there. Since Belle always eats her breakfast at the bar and we often talk, I started to notice him staring at her.

_All the time._

I mean, really… he pretends to be reading a newspaper, but he couldn’t have been more obvious if he cut holes in it.

Again, this has been going on for _three_ years.

And whenever I mention anything to Belle she gets this dazed look in her eyes and mumbles something about ‘not wanting to hurt their friendship.’

The polaroid was an accident though, although the look on Gold’s face was priceless.

I’ve been thinking… last year Ariel, Belle and I went to the beach together and I have a very clear snapshot of Belle in a bikini… I think I might accidentally drop it on his newspaper one of these days.”


	6. Fresh Sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or how I skip ahead to a scene sometime after the finale of season 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 300

“What are you doing?” her husband asked, stepping into the bedroom, just as she was fluffing the last pillow.

“Changing our bedcovers,” she replied, dumping the pillow on the bed and walking towards him.

He simply gazed at her, his brown eyes soft with wonder and a hint of trepidation.

It broke her heart and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer, feeling his own hands settle hesitantly on her waist, but remaining motionless otherwise. His curse was broken, they were back together and well on the way to mending their marriage, but he still scarcely dared to touch her of his own accord, always waiting for her to take the initiative.

“Rumple…” she breathed against his lips, standing on her tiptoes. “I,” _*kiss*_ “…love,” _*kiss*_ ”…you.”

Finally he pulled her close, capturing her lower lip with his own.   
“I love you so much, Belle.”

His grip tightened and suddenly they were tumbling down, landing on the center of the bed and her yelp and giggle of surprise turned into a breathy moan as he kissed her deeply.

When he finally pulled back, her heart was racing and she stretched happily against him, his warm body covering hers.

“Oh sweetheart…” His eyes had lost their uncertainty and were now glowing with unabashed love and adoration and he brought up his hand to reverently stroke her face and the tender skin of her throat, making her shiver with anticipation. 

“Of all the places to make love to you… I prefer _our_ bed above anything else…”

“Me too…” she confessed, stroking his hair.

His hand moved underneath her and toyed with the zipper of her dress and her breath caught with happiness now that he finally seemed to overcome his nervousness around her. “

Let’s enjoy our bed together.”


	7. True Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 400

The bell of the pawnshop jingled merrily as she entered and Belle’s heart gave a happy little flutter when she got sight of its owner, hunched over a large crate. Jumping to his feet at her arrival, he nervously straightened his tie.

“Hello Miss French, my apologies for the casual appearance. How may I help you?”

Belle bit back a smile.   
Only he would consider a loosened tie casual.

“I’m looking for a present for Ruby…” she started, but then her eyes drifted to the contents of the crate and she took a double take. “Oh my… are those books?”

He gave her a small grin, looking rather pleased with himself.

“They are… all of them at least a hundred years old. I got them at an estate sale.”

Almost hopping up and down with excitement she gave him a hopeful look. “May I?”

He waved his hand in a chivalrous gesture. “Be my guest.”

Kneeling down beside the crate, Belle took the first volume in her hands, admiring the fine leather binding.   
“It’s beautiful.”

A small, velvet-bound book of poetry caught her attention and she opened it carefully. On the first page, written in faded ink were the words: _‘For my true love.’_

“What is it?” he asked when he heard her soft gasp and she showed him the inscription.

For the briefest moment his gaze softened and he smiled wistfully. “Once upon a time this book must have meant a lot to someone.”

“It must have,” she echoed softly, her heart suddenly pounding.

“Well…” Regretfully she put the book back and looked back up. “About that present for Ruby…”

“Yes, of course.” His voice returned to his business-like self and within five minutes they had managed to find something suitable. It wasn’t until they were back at the counter and he put Ruby’s present into a paper back that she noticed he tried to slip in something else.

“What’s that?” she asked bewildered and his movements froze, revealing the book of poetry.  

“Why are you…?”

He cut her off, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment.

“This…” he said, indicating the book, his voice low. “This was deeply treasured by someone and I think… it should go to someone who will cherish it equally.”

She nodded wordlessly, her throat tight with tears.

He’d gifted her a book that read: ‘ _For my true love._ ”

She would treasure it always.


	8. The Pickle Complication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Granny has a dillema.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 300

The waitresses at Granny’s called it the Gold tax. Whenever Mr. Gold ordered pickles along with his lunch, Granny always charged him three times more. She even had a little note pinned to the cash register to make them remember.   
He always paid with an impassive face, but raised the rent at the end of the month with exactly the amount he’d paid extra. 

This went on for a great many years. 

Then Belle French came to Storybrooke to take over the library and it was clear as the nose on his face that the pawnbroker was instantly besotted with her.   
But only after a year of longing glances and awkward flirting at the counter, Gold finally plucked up the courage to ask her out. 

This faced Granny with a dilemma. Belle shared his enthusiasm for pickles and she didn’t have the heart to charge the girl extra.  At the same time, she wasn’t ready to give up this particular feud with Gold either. 

For a while Granny looked upon the budding romance with a frown, convinced that Gold was somehow manipulating the kindhearted librarian into spending time with him, not taking her feelings in consideration.   
Until the fateful evening when she walked into he couple as they were passionately making out in the alley behind the dinner and she witnessed normally sweet and polite Belle with a dead grip on Gold’s hair, telling him in a hoarse voice exactly what she’d like him to do to her. From that moment on Granny had no qualms about who was making the demands in that relationship. 

Which left the matter of the pickles.   
 The next day a second post-it note appeared on the register, introducing something called ‘French Tea.’   
From then on Belle French got her iced tea for free.


	9. All I want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I suffer from severe season finale anxiety and I use writing drabbles as a creative outlet…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 400

“This is the end for us then?” he asked through the tightness of his throat.

“Rumple…” she closed her eyes in frustration, tears trickling down her face. “How am I ever going to trust you again…?”

“Belle, my curse is gone… things will be different now,” he pleaded desperately, no longer bothering to hide his own tears.  

He’d kneel at her feet, kiss them, grovel, if only she…

“Give me another chance, Belle… I beg of you…”

“I can’t…” she sobbed as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I can’t love you anymore…”

* * *

 

He staggered blindly out of the pawnshop, tears blurring his vision, his heart shattering as her words continue to ring in his head.

 Too late…

She meant everything to him, but nothing would be enough to make amends for the pain and grief he’d caused her. He had found his way back to her, only to discover that she was no longer waiting for him.

“RUMPLE!”

Her frantic cry made him freeze in his steps, but he didn’t dare to turn around. He was a coward still, who couldn’t face his mind playing tricks on him.

Then she was in front of him and a heartbeat later in his arms, plastered against him, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

No force in any realm could stop him from pulling her against him, wrapping himself completely around her, his body sagging as he soaked in her scent and her warmth.

“I love you…” Her voice was small and teary against his chest. “And I don’t know how we can make this work, but I can't let you go again…”

He brought up his hand to stroke her silky curls and found himself making soothing noises against her temple.

“I’ve send you away once and I’ve regretted it every second of every day…” she continued, pulling back slightly to look in his eyes. “I’ve made mistakes too and I’m just as scared of hurting you again…”

“Don’t give up on me,” he broke across her, cradling her face in his hand. “I can bear anything… as long as I have you…”  

He felt the tension drain out of her body at his words and her shiver as she nestled herself against his chest, her head tucked underneath his chin.

“I just want you.”

A spark of hope lit his heart, mending the first pieces.

“I know that now, sweetheart.”


	10. Firthing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by something I reblogged from evilsnowqueen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 400

“I’m telling you, Belle, the man is totally firthing you!” Ruby told her adamantly.

“Firthing…?” Belle replied incredulously. “Is that new in sex?”

Ruby just hooted with laughter. “It’s not really about sex… although he might like to get some… it’s just, you know… firthing…”

Trying to suppress the fluttering in the pit of her stomach that the mere thought of Mr. Gold entertaining any kind of sex related inclinations towards her person evoked, Belle eyed Ruby warily.   
“What in the world is firthing?”

“You know… it’s that thing people do when they’re really into someone, but they’re afraid to do something about it. They lurk around, stare at you, but they never say a word.” Ruby explained,   
“I’m telling you, that’s what Mr. Gold is doing to you.”

From the corner of her eye, Belle discreetly managed to snatch a glimpse at the pawnbroker.  He was sitting in his usual booth, an espresso in front of him and apparently completely absorbed in his issue of the Financial Times.  
“You’re delusional,” she informed Ruby. “And why is it called ‘firthing?’

“Well, there’s this Pride and Prejudice series from like… a hundred years ago,” Ruby started to explain. “And the actor who plays Mr. Darcy does a lot of staring and ogling at Elizabeth Bennet before he makes his move. The actor’s called Colin Firth, so the thing is called ‘firthing’

“You mean the 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries, adapted by the BBC, staring Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle?” Belle asked pointedly.

“Oh, you’ve heard of it?” Ruby asked brightly.

“I’m insulted you’d think that I haven’t,” Belle shot back.

“Apparently they totally did it when they were filming,” Ruby confided. “The actors, I mean. I bet she fell for him because of all of that firthing.”

If anything, Belle thought to herself, she could be accused of firthing Mr. Gold. Really, why else would she sit at the diner at seven o’clock in the morning when she still could have been asleep in her bed since the library didn’t open up until nine?

Because she didn’t want to start her day without seeing him, that was why.

And now Ruby thought Mr. Gold was firthing _her._ The concept alone was ridiculous.

And yet, Belle couldn’t help herself. Putting down her coffee, she turned around rather swiftly, facing him.

A pair of dark brown, soulful eyes stared back at her longingly.


	11. Firthing II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Pride and Prejudice 1995 mini-series inspired woobiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 500  
> I think this crossed the line between a drabble and a ficlet.

Cursing himself and his stupidity, Gold stalked out of the diner, his insides burning with mortification.    
She was going to think he was a lecherous, old pervert now that she had caught him staring at her.

He was lucky if she didn’t send the Sheriff after him.

Outside Leroy was hosing down the pavement just as he came out. The sound of screeching tires in the street startled him and he spun around jerkily, still holding the hose.

Within a few seconds, Gold was drenched from head to toe.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Gold!” Leroy yelped, turning off the hose. He looked hesitant for a moment, but one good look at Gold’s furious face had him running like the clappers.

Swearing and seething with anger, Gold took of his suit jacket in a hopeless attempt to save the wool from complete ruin.    
It was only a quarter past seven in the morning and already his day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Mr. Gold! Are you alright?” A soft, lilting, Australian accent reached his ears and he whirled around.

_But of course it could._

“Oh my goodness, you’re soaked!” she exclaimed, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He looked down to find that she was quite right about that. The drenched fabric of his shirt clung to his skin and apparently it had been a colossal mistake to wear a white one today.

“Miss French…” he managed, shivering as her small hand unconsciously continued to rub his bicep.

“You’re freezing,” she said worriedly, her touch becoming firmer. He was, but all things considered that was probably a blessing.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her. “It’s no matter…”

Her hand had stilled on his arm, but she was still looking at him and he suddenly noticed that her face was flushed, two bright red spots tinging her cheeks and that her eyes kept reverting to his chest.

If only the ground would be so kind as to swallow him up now.

Her gaze met his, her eyes wide and bright and impossibly blue.  
“We need to get you out of that shirt!”

The moment the words left her mouth her blush intensified and crept all the way down her neck and into the collar of her blouse and he was assaulted with images of her unbuttoning his shirt.

And the rest of his clothing.

In the privacy of his bedroom.

It was a really good thing he was freezing.

“I have some dry clothes in the shop… I’ll manage…” Where had his voice gone?

“Right… yes…” she breathed and if she didn’t stop biting that lip of hers she was going to draw blood.

“Take care, Mr. Gold.”    
That soft, concerned smile shouldn’t make his heart clench in the way that it did.

“I will,” he promised.

Her hand dropped down and now he felt truly cold. Turning around he began to walk towards his shop, his clothes making embarrassing sloshing noises with every step that he took.

What a miserable day.


	12. At First Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold has a strong reaction to the librarian's new glasses.   
> Little thing I wrote for Kamdensl as part of the RSIJ exchange.

The funding of Storybrooke’s public library was on the agenda of the council meeting that afternoon and Gold knew the librarian would make an appearance to plead her case.

He had prepared himself for the occasion by dressing meticulously in his most intimidating suit (the black, silk one) and arranged his paperwork on the table around him like ammunition.

He would not revert to the awkward, nerve-wrecked, tongue-tied fool she usually reduced him to when he unexpectedly bumped into her at Granny’s or when she floated into his shop, looking for another rare edition among his book section.

He was prepared and he would face her with every ounce of aloofness and cold civility he could muster.

The tell-tale sound of her heels clicking on the hardwood floor announced her arrival, but he kept his gaze firmly on the minutes in front of him, the letters swimming in front of his eyes.

Before he finally looked up he carefully schooled his face in a neutral, blank expression. He would not expose himself to ridicule and humiliation by betraying how deeply she affected him.

But when his eyes finally settled on her face, all the air seemed to evaporate from his lungs and his throat felt suddenly dry and scratchy.    
Apparently Miss French had dressed up for the occasion as well in a black leather skirt and a pristine white blouse that accentuated every perfect curve of her body.  But his gaze helplessly reverted to the brown-rimmed glasses she was wearing and only seemed to make her eyes look that much bluer.

Her chestnut curls were pinned up in a complicated bun, leaving the white column of her neck and throat exposed and he hadn’t been breathing for almost a full minute.

“The meeting will come to order,” Regina’s bored voice drawled. “First item on the agenda: the library.

Miss French insisted on coming here and explaining why it is vital to keep the library open next year.

Miss French, you have five minutes.”

“Thank you, madam mayor,” she replied with a calm smile and a flawlessly manicured hand adjusted the glasses more firmly.

Gold swallowed audibly.

For a long second her gaze lingered on him and a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Then she addressed the council again. “How many of you have ever lost themselves in a good book?”


	13. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words: 300

Apparently the recently installed AC in the pawnshop was working remarkably well, because it wasn’t until Gold stepped outside to wind up the sunscreens that he noticed how hot of a day it had been, the brick of the building still feeling hot to the touch.

Now the sun was setting, bathing Storybooke in golden light.   

Laughter broke the quiet of the early evening as three young women rounded the corner and Gold pulled back towards the entrance of the shop, unable to tear his gaze away from one of them.

Ariel, Ruby and Belle had obviously spend the day at the beach, escaping the heat of the town and Gold hungrily took in the sight of Belle’s red skin - probably the result of a bit too much sunshine -, glorious curls tied up in a bun on top of her head and the colorful, short sundress that showed an endless amount of tanned legs and set of every curve of her body.

For a mad, hopeless moment he allowed himself to fantasize that she was heading for the pawnshop, returning to him after spending a day with her friends, her sunny smile just for him.

Her skin would be warm and glowing after soaking up all that sunlight, she’d smell of sand and salt and taste of ice-cream and watermelon.  

He’d take her in his arms and it would be as if was holding summer itself.

Shaking his head the beautiful daydream dissipated, replaced by an all too familiar sense of guilt and self-loathing.

Belle French would _never_ be his and if she knew what he was thinking, she’d be disgusted by him.

Blindly groping for the handle of the door behind him, Gold stepped back into his dark, cold shop, summer instantly feeling like a lifetime away.


End file.
